


Worst Carnival Ever

by AnxiousPeaches



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, It gets really gross, Knifeplay, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Snowballing, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 15:59:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19360162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousPeaches/pseuds/AnxiousPeaches
Summary: Bill wakes up after a trial to find himself in a precarious situation with a rather large, jovial man. However, it looks like this clown isn't interested in doing playful pranks or making balloon animals.





	Worst Carnival Ever

_ THWAP!  _

The sound of somethin’ hittin’ next to my ear made me stir. As my eyes fluttered open, I became aware that I couldn’t move my arms or legs. Everythin’ appeared upside down, with a sky filled with hazy yellow and blue lights below me and ashy, dry grass above. A cold breeze nipped against my naked body, as I tried to pry my wrists away from leather straps. I looked up to see an eye full of my bruised thighs and limp dick. Of all the ugly angles to see myself in, this was one I would have chosen to skip. 

Grass shuffled around made me, and I turned my head forward. Every movement I made felt sluggish, and even my vision seemed to take too long to focus. The blurry figure of a large, jovial lookin’ man loomed in front of me. His makeup was like a cake that had been sittin’ out too long, the icin’ all cracked and dried out from the heat of the day. The smeared, smilin’ lips didn’t quite match the malicious laugh he let out as he chucked something toward me. 

_ THWAP! _

The sound came again, somewhere above. I looked up to see a knife now wedged into the wood, vibratin’ slightly from the impact. 

“The fuck are ya doin’,” I shouted, though the words didn’t sound quite right. My tongue lulled in places it shouldn’t, makin’ the sounds slur together. The Clown laughed, the same deep and hearty noise I heard many times when he’d knocked me down to the ground. Another knife sailed through the air, landin’ beside my neck. 

Perhaps, if I hadn’t been through hell and back a million times already, that would have made me flinch. Instead, all it did was get me even more pissed. “I didn’t sign up for this shit,” I spat, grumblin’ to myself. I would have gladly accepted being left dead in that undead hell back home.  

The last thing I remembered was Kate screaming as the Clown knocked her down for the final time. The chaos of the trial was a blur, either because of what a mess it became or the gasses that permeated through the air. After Kate died, I could only vaguely remember Ace and I splittin’ up to find the hatch. He went for the shack, while I headed to the circus since that’s where I saw it the last time I was sent to this blasted place. I’d passed by that annoyin’ fortune teller machine, with the music that played so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think. There’d been a strange smell in the air, like kerosene or somethin’. I couldn’t remember shit after that. 

The Clown pulled his arm back, the blade of his knife glintin’ in the carnival lights. He staggered for a moment, waitin’ to throw until he’d gotten himself semi-stable. A sense of dread settled in my chest as waited for his next move. A quick release. The weapon whistled as it flew through the air. 

The sound of it hittin’ the wood never came, but instead a fleshy, wet noise sent a wave of shock through my spine. My teeth clenched back a scream of pain. The Clown only laughed, admirin’ the serrated knife that was now diggin’ into my thigh. He watched the blood run down my chest and neck. The look in his eyes were of hunger and some unseen darkness I didn’t want to know.  _ This is gonna get bad. Real bad.  _

He wobbled his way toward me, and as he got close I smelled somethin’ other than the noxiously sweet gas in the air. He reeked of booze, which was an unusually nice change compared to the moldy smell that normally wafted around him. 

“The fuck do ya want,” I growled, my hands clenching into fists as he reached for me. He paused, only for a moment, and I thought he might actually speak. Instead, he pulled a bottle from his inner jacket pocket, sloshin’ the mysterious liquid around. A sly smile spread wide across his lips. He brought the glass down against my chin with a strength you wouldn’t expect from a fat bastard like him. Glass shattered across my skin, slicin’ into my face and sending even more blood beneath me. Noxious gases filled the air and my lungs, elicitin’ a coughin’ fit that burned me inside and out.

Pleased with the groan of pain I let out, he returned to what he was doin’ before. The straps on my wrists became undone. I wanted to reach out and strangle the fucker, but my arms fell limp. My body refused to cooperate with any command. The straps on my ankles were next. I slumped down to the ground like jelly. 

He left me like that, splayed out on the cool grass, and headed into his rotten caravan. He patted the sickly horse’s head once as he passed it by. If there was ever a chance for me to escape, it would be then. With all my strength, I tried to drag myself off the ground. My fingers trembled. My left leg twisted just slightly.  _ The fuck is wrong with me?  _

The gas. I knew it was the gas. How the hell it didn’t affect my mind was lost on me. I thought of the only other chance of escape I had. Had Ace found the hatch? It wouldn’t have opened yet, not until I was sacrificed. Maybe the lucky fuck got himself a key, but would he have left me behind? My head lulled a bit as I tried to look around. In a way, I hoped he did abandon me. The last thing I needed was someone seein’ me a drugged up, naked mess. 

The Clown came out of his caravan. My heart beat a bit faster as I saw a clear bottle grasped tightly in his hands. He leaned down next to the horse, pettin’ it as he held the bottle beneath its chin. The black pus and drool that leaked out of its mouth slid into the throat of the bottle with a viscous consistency.  _ Is that the shit he’s been puttin’ into the gas?  _ I’d breathed in worse in Nam, but that didn’t make it any less shitty. 

His turned back around, his eyes now on me. Whatever he’d hit me with before had fully taken effect. I knew this because I tried to call him a motherfucker, but the only thing that came out were groans. Each step he took was deliberately slow. He was enjoyin’ this little game of his. Maybe he thought I was afraid of him. I was only afraid of how long any of it would take. 

He grabbed me by my hair, draggin’ me toward the caravan. Pain jolted through my body, made worse as I felt a tuft of my hair rip out in between his fingers. When my head slipped out of his grip and smacked against the ground, he decided to try a different approach. His chunky arms slipped beneath my back with a gentleness I wouldn’t have expected. 

I didn’t like it. I would rather he just stomp on my head like normal. 

The smell of booze became more distinct when I was pressed against his chest. He smelled like someone had doused him in gin. Judgin’ from the empty bottles of booze that littered the bright and colorful carnival, I wouldn’t be surprised if he spent all his time drinkin’. 

He surprised me then, by not takin’ me into his caravan which held god knows what. Instead, he slammed my back down against strongman game so hard the puck shot up five feet in the air. His uproarious laughter only grated on my nerves as I groaned in pain. I could feel the tears rollin’ down my face. My first instinct was to wipe them away, but I just laid there limply against the small, metal base. 

He grabbed me by the legs and pried them open. His calloused fingertips trailed down my thigh, pinching at the sensitive skin every now and then. Somethin’ in my face must have given away my fear. He stared down into my glaring eyes, then laughed out loud again when it became obvious that I knew exactly what was happening. I couldn’t really do shit about it, as much as I struggled to find the strength to fight. When you’re going through something like that, no matter how tough you are, you just have to take it in stride. I couldn’t stop and let myself panic. It was either keep fighting or give in, and the last thing I wanted to do was be an easy victim for him. 

He moved until he got his crotch right in my face. A putrid smell radiated from the area, making me cough as he rubbed the hardened bulge against my cheek. Not lettin’ my catch a break, he grabbed my head and forced me to press into it. The taste of his tattered carnival clothes, coated in blood and who knew what other shit, made my eyes water. I gagged as I felt his dirty fingers slip inside my mouth, coating the calloused tips in my saliva. I expected him to laugh, but all I could hear was his eerily heavy breathing. 

He took a step back just to pry open my mouth. I let out a string of cusses that barely resembled words as he forced my jaw to stay open.  _ This is it. _ I expected him to pull his dick out right there, but I should have known better. The Clown had done nothin’ to match my expectations yet, why start now? 

He pulled the clear bottle of drool out. Up close, I could see the way the liquid separated into layers of black slime, puss, and saliva. A sticky mixture coated the outside of the bottle, collecting a layer of dust and mold. Only when he held it above my head did everythin’ click into place. 

He let it ooze down into my mouth. It slid down my tongue with a viscous, oily texture that reminded me of a slug. The taste of salt and metal mixed with somethin’ bitter and sour drained down my throat. I tried to turn my head, to push out of the disgustin’ liquid, but my tongue only swished through it, makin’ it spread around my cheeks. 

Nausea climbed up my body until I couldn’t repress it anymore. My stomach contracted violently as I retched on foul liquid. I started to choke as it erupted from my mouth with nowhere to go but back down. Sweat and puke dripped around the corners of my lips as The Clown tilted my head toward the side. I barely had time to register the massive dick in my face before he crammed it down my throat. A horrible squelch followed as it displaced the putrid mixture that now rolled down my cheeks and sputtered out my nose. 

He didn’t give me much time to get used to it, not that any time in the world could actually do that. His hips jutted down my throat till his bulbous stomach smothered my face. Rough public hair scratched my nose. His balls wetly slapped against my cheek, getting coated in the puke and drool. My body heaved violently from the pain, disgust, and humiliation. Tears started to fill my eyes as he picked up the pace. Soon he had to grab my head and hold it in place because he was proddin’ me so violently.

Just when I thought I might black out from the lack of air, he pulled out. His throbbin’ cock rubbed against my swollen lips. He watched me with a dark gaze that only made me wish more that I was strong enough to kill him. He snorted when I let out a  guttural sound of frustration, the result of me trying my damndest to move. 

Dread filled me as he walked around me. He pried open my legs, elicitin’ a wheeze of fear from me, and nestled between my thighs. My head leaned too far back for me to see what was happening, but I had a pretty good idea. I shuddered, though, when I felt him drag me forward. As he leaned over me, a sharp pain pierced the slit in my thigh. This time, I did manage to scream as I felt something thick prod into the wound that had been left by the knife earlier. The sound of his heavy grunts, the slick squelch of blood, the agony, the putrid smell: it everything was too much. My old body had been through hell, but this was somethin’ I didn’t want to come back from. 

The Clown grabbed me by the hair and forced my head up. At first, I didn’t know what he wanted. Then I saw his dick fuckin’ the hole in my leg.  _ The sick bastard wants me to watch. _ Another laugh shook his body as I hissed from a particularly sharp jab. What had once been a slit from an inch-wide blade split wider and wider with each thrust. Finally his, dick slipped out of the hole, blood clingin’ to it in ways I never wanted to see. I thought I might pass out right then and there. 

He cut another, and then when that one split, he made another. Over and over again, he slit me open until my legs were just a gnarled, unrecognizable mess. Whenever my eyes would drift away, a quick smack would land on my cheek. His black eyes watched me like a hawk, demandin’ my attention. When even my glazed over look didn’t satisfy him, he pulled out that bottle again. 

“No,” I groaned, finally gainin’ some control of myself. My hands weakly grasped onto his arms, but they only gave me balance rather than deliverin’ the pain he deserved. He dribbled the mixture over my legs, lettin’ it mix with blood and into the wounds. Then, with a wide grin, he pushed the neck into my throat. 

He kept his grip tight as I gagged and struggled against the flood of awful slime that filled my mouth. As much as I tried to spit it out, some of it did make its way down my throat. My stomach clenched at the thought of it inside me. Not until every drop was gone did he remove the glass from my lips. He carelessly dropped it onto the grass below, finally done torturin’ me with it. 

His knife came out once again. He pulled my wrist away as I tried to grab it. “Please,” I gasped, no longer above beggin’. “Just end this.” My breakin’ point had been reached long ago. He tilted his head at me as if ponderin’ my request. “Please.” 

He pulled me closer. The knife jutted deep into my gut, over and over again until all I could see was red and white. My brain was an incomprehensible scream of pain. I could feel him shiftin’ over me, and with horror, I realized his dick was pumpin’ into a mess of my guts spillin’ out.  _ Am I going to die like this?  _ I didn’t want some fat fuck defilin’ my body all the way to the grave. 

I’d always been the bastard who just wouldn’t die. Even though it would have been a gift to die, my stupid self just kept clingin’ on. I laid there for what felt like hours until he finally spilled into me with a moan that could be heard across the whole damn circus. My body trembled from frigid air and blood and puke that soaked every inch of me. I hoped Ace hadn’t seen that. I hoped he escaped long ago, without a clue as to what happened to me. 

The last thing I felt was The Clown’s tongue drifting over each one of my fingers, trying to find the perfect one for his collection. As the sweet release of death claimed me, I hoped that would be the last one he’d ever want from me. 


End file.
